My father had a fantastic way of killing any happiness I had.
Throughout the years I lived with him, he took enormous pleasure in destroying happier moments. Whether they were moments I shared with him or others, they would rarely last for long.
There were two particular times when my father revelled in this.
1. Returning from my mothers’.
I would dread the moment I had to go back to my father. Who knows why I did return? But each time I did, he would be waiting. On returning, my father would instantly beckon me to wherever he was in the house. It was usually the kitchen.
“Good, you’re back,” would be my welcome. No ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you?’
I would either be greeted with a list of orders to complete or a barrage of insults because of a mistake I had done. Something he could’ve said before I left but he wanted to save it for my arrival. He had perfect timing.
He was always in a bad mood. It annoyed him that I still cared for my mother. It angered him that my love for her was clearly growing, if anything we were becoming stronger. He detested her with every pulse in his body and he never held back in his hatred. It all depended on how he felt that day. Sometimes, he wouldn’t say anything. But that would be rare, usually my mother would receive some sort of insult spoken under his breath. It was best to ignore his adolescent rant.
2. Returning home from David’s’.
Staying at David’s house at the start of our relationship irritated my father. David lived outside of London, only an hour away on the train. At the beginning, I travelled down to see him almost every weekend. I didn’t mind, it was a chance to escape. I hated leaving him and coming back to the abuse. My father liked David. He was quiet and non-confrontational. Of course he liked him. We were opposites in my father’s mind. I was so confrontational and argumentative He wondered what attracted my boyfriend to me. I let him wonder.
Saturday 6th February 2009
I’m scared to go home from D’s (David). Didn’t want to leave. D asked me if I wanted to take anything with me for the journey, like a book to read or food. I answered, “You”. He smiled. He couldn’t meet my request. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. I miss him. Now I’m at home and have been banished to my room. I feel peace writing this. I miss D like mad, we’ve only been apart for 3 hours, how stupid. I would never tell him that.